Vacation
by laoisbabe
Summary: Set in Season 4 after The Angel Maker. Hotch decides to drive back to Virginia. Vacation turns nasty. Slight Season 4 SPOILER ALERT.
1. Chapter 1

_**SPOILER ALERT:**__ Set after Episode 2 of Season 4. Some references to first few episodes of that season._

_"Slow down and enjoy life. It's not only the scenery you miss by going too fast - you also miss the sense of where you are going and why. "_. Eddie Cantor (1892 - 1964)

Aaron Hotchner was glad he had taken Dave Rossi's advice. There was no point rushing back to Quantico. He needed to unwind and there was some breath taking scenery between Lower Caanan, Ohio and home. His team had flown back to Virginia after the case, but his ear still hadn't recovered from the explosion so he decided not to fly. He casually steered his rental car with one hand on the steering wheel, the other elbow resting on the open window. Hotch could feel the wind in his face. It helped him feel alive again, blowing those cobwebs from his mind. It had been a rough few weeks, hell, it had been a rough year. So, taking Rossi's advice, he was allowing himself a couple of days vacation time, taking in some pretty little towns and enjoying a country trail or two.

The first night he decided to stay in the little town of Parkersburg. He checked in to a little motel on the outskirts. He ate at the local diner which was nearby and then decided to have a few beers in the bar across the road. While there he met a pretty young woman called Tina. She was good company and he enjoyed talking to her. It was good to talk to someone who didn't want to know about his work, who only wanted to know him. As it was getting late, Aaron decided to head back to the motel for the night. Much to his surprise, Tina suggested she accompany him. She had been flirting with him all that night. She was attractive and intelligent, both qualities he admired. He wanted her, he needed to feel wanted. In his mind all he could think of was Hayley and Jack. He felt guilty, yet he couldn't see why. She had wanted the divorce. They no longer lived together, he shouldn't feel guilty. Tina was just what he needed. She knew he was just passing through. He amde it clear that he wasn't in the market for a relationship. He had talked to her about the divorce. She was understanding and sympathetic. She knew it would only ever be a one night stand.

He smiled kindly at her and took her hand. They strolled the short distance to the motel. As he was opening the door to the room, she was already kissing him. She was eager and passionate. They stumbled through the door, Tina undoing his shirt as they kissed. Hotch let all his cares melt away as he lay on the bed and gently pulled her towards him. They spent the night in each other's arms, each getting from the other what they needed. As exhaustion set in, Tina dozed in Hotchner's arms. Holding her he realised how long it had been since he had let anyone, besides Hayley, be that close to him, emotionally and physically. He had unwittingly become an island since the separation. He knew he needed to make changes in his life. His reluctance to change had cost him his marriage. If he ever wanted to find happiness again, he knew he had to change. With his job, it was so hard. It demanded so much of his time. It took such an emotional toll on him. He needed to find a balance.

Hayley was always preaching about balance. Why didn't he listen? Maybe it was too late. Maybe he'd blown the one chance he would get at happy ever after.

Emily kept popping into his mind. As he traced his fingers along the small of Tina's back, he imagined that it was Emily lying beside him. It surprised him a little. He had great respect for her as an agent and there was no denying that she was a beautiful looking woman. When did he start thinking about her in that way? And what was the point? He was her supervisor. It would be thoroughly unprofessional to ask her out. She'd probably refuse and then be totally mortified to even look at him ever again. Of course she'd refuse, he thought. No one wants a guy with the amount of baggage he was dragging behind him. Lost in his thoughts, he eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, when he woke, Tina was getting dressed. She thanked him for a great night and kissed him passionately on the lips before winking and walking out of his life. No strings, Hotch thought, no strings! He had breakfast alone in the diner the next morning, bought a few provisions for his travels in the store and hit the road. It was a bright, inviting morning. He checked his road map and decided to travel via Blue Ridge and through the Allegheny Mountains. It was the scenic route home but this was his mini-vacation, so why not?

After a couple of hours he found himself in a beautiful spot, quiet, remote and peaceful. He parked his rental car and decided that he needed to walk, just get out and walk. And he did, for hours. He brought some snacks and rested when he felt like it. It was so quiet he noticed. His ear drum didn't seem to bother him as much up here. He lost himself in his surrounding for ages, but all too soon, he realised it was time to be getting back. He had planned to get to Roanoke for the night. He hiked back to his car and noticed the evening chill setting in. The morning sunshine had been replaced with scattered clouds that hid the setting sun. He decided it would be best to get back on the main road before dark. Soon he was under way again.

He was only on the mountain road for less than 20 minutes when he came upon a couple whose pickup appeared to be broken down. Realising that it could be hours before another vehicle came by, he kindly pulled in just beyond their truck and walked back to them.

"Hi," Aaron says greeting the woman standing on the side of the road. "You need any help?"

"Howdy," the woman replied in a southern drawl. "Darn radiators blown."

"I have a cell phone. I could call a tow truck or give you a ride to the next town, if you like," Hotch offered.

"There's no need," the guy said, straightening up from under the hood. In his hand he holds a long blade knife. "I'll take those keys."

He approached Hotch menacingly. Hotch glanced at the woman and saw her fear. He threw the keys to the armed man who picked them up and ordered the woman into the car in a threatening manner. She looked apologetically at Hotch but did as she was told. The guy was tall and heavy set and still coming towards Hotch. Hotch braced himself, realising that he was going to have to fight for his life. Grappling with his attacker, Hotch did his best to defend himself, but he was still suffering the effects of his injuries from the explosion he was caught in a few weeks previous. It didn't take long for Hotch to realise that he was fighting a losing battle. The guy was much stronger that he and soon he was on top of Aaron trying to stab him. The pair rolled on the ground, Aaron using all his strength to keep the weapon away from his body. Then the guy renewed his efforts and took a lunging swipe with the knife and caught Hotch in his side, between his ribs. The pain was immense as the force broke bone and the blade sliced through tissue. Hotch yelled loudly in pain as the blade was yanked out of him. He grasped his side and could feel the warmth of his own blood through his fingers and began to feel faint. His attacker got to his feet, reached into Hotch's pocket and took his phone and then brushed himself down. Callously, he kicked Hotch in the head as he walked past him and got into the car. He drove away, leaving his victim unconscious and bleeding on the side of the road.


	2. Chapter 2

As Hotch began to regain consciousness, he became aware of a piercing pain in his chest and the taste of blood in his mouth. He had no idea how long he had been lying there. As it happened it had only been about ten minutes. He soon realised that his situation was precarious and that his life was hanging in the balance. He knew the chances of another vehicle travelling the remote road at this time of the evening were slim and that if he wanted to survive, he had to act. He felt in his pocket for his phone. It wasn't there. The truck, he had to get to the truck. Summoning all his strength, he rolled agonisingly onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. The pain was gripping, causing him to see black spots in front of his eyes. He clutched the wounded area and willed himself to stay conscious. The truck was only twenty five metres away but it might as well have been miles. Blood seeped through his fingers from the stab wound. A painful cough renewed the taste of blood in his mouth. Shakily he struggled to his feet and stumbled towards the truck. Reaching it, he leaned on the hood, grateful for the support and relief it brought. He left a trail of bloody hand prints along the paintwork as he pulled himself around to the driver door. He opened the door and was glad to see the keys were still in the ignition. He took a deep painful breath and managed to haul himself up into the cab of the truck. He flopped into the seat as the exertion resulted in the world spinning around him. He closed his eyes to try and stop the spinning. He was feeling nauseous so concentrated on taking slow shallow breaths to help quell the feeling.

"Don't pass out. Don't pass out!" he said to himself, willing himself to stay conscious.

Sitting there it dawned on him that he needed to stem the blood flow from the wound in his chest before he bled to death. He looked around the cab of the truck. There wasn't much there he could use. He painfully removed his shirt and after several failed attempts, managed to tear one sleeve off. He looked down at his bare chest and the oozing wound. It was about two inches long, a warm stream of blood flowed steadily from it. He knew what he had to do. Gritting his teeth, he took the sleeve of his once pristine white shirt and using his fingers, packed it into the wound. Despite his best efforts he could not help but release a blood curdling scream at the tortuous pain of his actions. He fainted back into the seat.

-------------------

Back in Quantico the team are busy following up on some old cases. There were plenty of reports to fill out after the cannibal case in Lower Caanan. While Hotchner was away, Rossi was trying to clear some of the S.S.A's administrative backlog. Morgan was at his desk when he got an unexpected call. It was Hayley, Hotch's ex-wife.

"Oh! Hi Hayley! How are you? " he asked awkwardly. Things hadn't been the same since the divorce.

"Hello Derek. I'm good thanks. I'm trying to reach Aaron," she said, a note of tension evident in her voice.

"He's taken a few vacation days. He decided to drive back from Ohio. You should get him on his cell," Morgan advised her.

"I've been trying his cell for ages," she explained. "He's not answering. I really have to contact him. Jacky's ill and I'm on the way to the hospital with him. He's crying for his Dad."

"Look Hayley, you look after Jacky. I'll track Aaron down and I'll call you back," Morgan suggested, suspecting that Hotch just didn't want to talk to Hayley. Hayley thanked him and hung up.

Derek immediately called Hotch's cell phone. It rang and then went to voice mail. He tried again and a few more times after that. Still there was no answer. He called over to Emily to see if she had heard from Hotch. She told him that they hadn't spoken since leaving Ohio. She suggested he ask Rossi because she was pretty sure he had called him late the night before. Morgan went to Rossi and told him about Hayley's call and about being unable to reach Hotch. Rossi didn't seem concerned and explained that Hotch had told him that he was going to take the scenic route home. Perhaps he had no signal, he suggested. Morgan explained that there was no message from the phone company that the phone was out of range and that it was ringing and then going to the messaging service. Rossi agreed that it was odd for Hotch not to answer his cell, especially when he usually kept it with him. He suggested that Morgan get Garcia to do some discreet digging. Morgan agreed and went to talk to Penelope.

----------------------

Meanwhile on the mountain road, Hotch came to once more. He raised his head and looked around. It took a few seconds before he remembered what had happened. It was almost dark and he immediately noticed the cold. He was still sitting in the cab of the truck, bare-chested, shivering. He was unsure if the shivering was as a result of the cold or shock. He suspected the latter. He looked around the seat and on the floor behind where he sat. There he found a grubby old jacket. It smelt of oil and liquor but it didn't matter to him. He needed to get warm so put it over his shoulders. He looked down at his stab wound. His make shift wound bandage was bright red but it seemed to be slowing the flow of blood. There was a crushing pain on the right side of his chest. He was pretty sure his lung had collapsed. Every breath hurt.

He needed to get the truck started. He reached for the key in the ignition and turned it. The truck gave the impression that it was going to start. It spluttered for a few seconds but then died.

"Come on!" he shouted as he tried again. "Start, please God, start."

This time there was no sound from the engine. Hotch felt defeated. He leaned his head back against the driver seat and began to cry. The thought of never seeing his son again tore at him. After all he'd been through, was this how he was going to die, he wondered. He said a silent prayer that someone would pass and find him. He looked at where he was and knew it would probably be morning before any more traffic passed this way. He couldn't rely on luck. He would have to make his own. He knew the intersection with the main road was only about three miles further up the road. He could make it on foot, he thought. He felt under the seats for anything that might help him. He smiled when he found a torchlight. At least it's something, the thought. He climbed awkwardly down from the truck, carefully guarding his injured side. He checked the back of the truck. There wasn't much there he could work with. There was a rope, a fuel drum and a tarpaulin. Under the tarp he found a navy hold all. There was a sweatshirt and some toiletries inside it. The sweatshirt he could use. Painfully he removed the jacket and pulled the sweatshirt over his head. At least it would help keep him warm. He put the jacket back on over it. He was delighted when he found an unopened bottle of water in the hold all. He drank from it greedily, too greedily, because once the water hit his stomach, his stomach lurched and he was sick. Not so much next time, he thought. He splashed a little on his face and decided to keep the rest for later. He put it in the pocket of the jacket.

With nothing else to help him, he decided to start walking. Hunched slightly forward, his elbow tucked tightly into his injured ribs he took off walking. It was starting to drizzle but he was glad of the moisture on his face, keeping him alert. He continued on, master of his own fate.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Back at BAU headquarters, Morgan enters the Tech Room and greets Garcia in his usual flirtatious manner.

"Hey, Baby Girl," he says, entering her domain.

"Hello, Handsome. To what do I owe this pleasure," Garcia replies seductively.

"I need you to work your magic, Garcia. Hotch has gone off radar. Hayley's trying to reach him but he isn't answering his cell. Can you track him down?" Morgan asks, as he slips into a seat beside her.

"I don't know, Derek. I mean I can but I don't think Hotch would be too happy if we were spying on him on his vacation," Garcia replies unenthusiastically.

"I don't either, but even Rossi's getting concerned. He's had a tough time lately and we just want to be sure he's okay," Derek explains.

"Well, okay then. How can I refuse such charm?" she replies. "Okay, rental car or cell phone?"

"Rental car I suppose. At least we'll know where he is," Morgan replies.

"No problem," Garcia quips as she begins to work her magic on the keyboard. "Okay, here we go. He picked up a 2007 model Ford Fusion on Thursday. Great! It's fitted with a GPS locator. Now, if I can just tap into their tracking system, I'll be able to see where he is," she continues. "And voilá! That's odd. It looks like he's heading towards Detroit."

"What?" Morgan asks, a little confused.

"Well, that's where his rental car is heading. Hold on. I'll try and locate his cell phone," Garcia says, already tapping furiously. "Okay…get this, according to what I'm seeing his cell last pinged off a tower outside Clarksburg, That's nowhere near Detroit," she notes.

"But that would make more sense though. He is supposed to be driving from Ohio back to here, not heading north to Detroit. Is it still there?" Morgan asks.

"Seems to be. It doesn't look like it's moved in a while. Well, if he's in Clarksburg, why is his car travelling north?" Garcia wonders out loud.

"I have a bad feeling, Garcia. Something's not right. It's not like Hotch to cut himself off completely. I'm gonna have the local sheriff stop the rental car on the way to Detroit. If Hotch is driving they can pass on a message. If he's not, we might at least find out what's going on," Derek says as he leaves the tech room.

-----------------

As all this was going on, the injured Hotchner was continuing his journey on foot. His feet were like lead and the sheer exertion was taking its toll on him. His body required more oxygen than it was getting. His lungs struggled to cope with the extra strain, resulting in painful bouts of coughing. With each bout, he doubled over in pain and struggled to stay on his feet. He had only travelled less than one mile, but it felt like ten to him. He was beginning to feel nauseous and light-headed. He dragged his feet and clutched his ribs, pushing himself onwards. With visibility poor, he relied on the dim beam of the torch light to guide him. Unfortunately, he failed to see the broken patch at the roads edge and he stumbled on the broken surface, tripping and losing his balance. He fell into the rocky verge, landing hard on his face. The impact on his already traumatised body left him wracked in agony. He made no attempt to get to his feet. There he lay, unmoving, on the verge and quickly succumbed to the darkness.

--------------------

Meanwhile, Rossi was gathering his team together. He had received news from Detroit P.D. Traffic cops had attempted to stop the rental car earlier that evening but the driver failed to stop. They gave pursuit and they eventually apprehended the driver and passenger when it collided with another car during the chase. The pair had been identified as Travis Black and Margy Wallace, both of whom were wanted in connection with the double murder of an elderly couple in Missouri.

They were being questioned at a police station in downtown Detroit. When police searched the car, they found Aaron Hotchner's gun and ID badge as well as his overnight bag in the rear seat.

"So what does that mean? Where's Hotch?" Emily asks with concern, voicing everyone else's thoughts.

"They're not talking. Morgan and Prentiss, I want you both to go to Clarksburg. If that's where his cell last pinged, someone may have seen him. J.J., Reid, you come with me to Detroit. We're gonna have a chat with Mr. Black and Ms. Wallace," Rossi informs them.

Prentiss and Morgan hit the road straight away. It was dark and wet but they hurried towards their destination regardless. As they eventually approached the outskirts of Clarksburg, they were met by an ambulance racing in the opposite direction, lights flashing. They didn't pass much heed as they were both lost in their thoughts, worried for their friend. It was so out of character for him not to be contactable. Even on vacation, he usually liked to check in every now and again. Deep down they both knew something was amiss, bu t neother wanted to admit it.

The first place they called to was the Sheriff's office. They explained what they knew so far and showed a photo of Hotchner to the Sheriff and a couple of his deputies. No one recognised him. The Sheriff advised them to try the local motel and some of the bars. Someone might recognise him. They left their contact details with the Sheriff and headed out to canvas the locality. It was going to be a long night.

-------------------------

Back on the roadside, Hotch was sure he could hear voices. He was battling his way back to consciousness. He couldn't make out what was being said but he felt people touching him. He wanted to shout at them to stop but hadn't the strength. There was something being placed over his mouth and head. He didn't like it. Then he felt something around his neck and before he could react he was being log rolled onto his back onto something hard. His eyelids flickered and there were moments when he was sure he could see the night sky turn red and then blue. The cold drizzle on his face reminded him that he was still alive. Lying on his back, it was getting harder to breathe but the oxygen mask on his face was helping a little. The fog was beginning to lift from his mind. Was he being rescued? He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. Then he had a sensation of floating, bouncing along. It was nice, the rocking movement was comforting. Then it stopped suddenly and the voices stopped and a loud slamming noise startled him. He opened his eyes again and realised that he couldn't feel the rain anymore. He was inside. Then a face entered his line of vision, a kind face. She spoke to him, soothed him, reassured him. Was he dreaming, he wondered? Was she an angel? Don't let this be a dream, he prayed before he sliped into oblivion once more.

------------------------

Morgan and Prentiss were busy making enquiries at a service station when Morgan's cell phone rang.

"Special Agent Morgan? This is Sheriff Lyman. We might have found your guy," he announced.

"What? Where?" Morgan asked eagerly, signalling to Prentiss.

"Got a call from a forestry worker, saying he found a man lying on the side of the road up near Cougar Park. He thought he'd been involved in a hit 'n run. EMT's have just picked him up and are on their way back to town as we speak. From first reports they say he's been stabbed. He's got no ID on him but the description matches your missing agent," the Sheriff told him.

"Thanks, Sheriff. We'll meet you at the hospital," Morgan said before hanging up.

"What's going on?" Emily asked, watching Morgan's expression for changes.

"They've found a man matching Hotch's description lying on the side of a road in the mountains," Derek began to explain.

"Oh my God! Is he dead?" Emily interrupted, her hand covering her mouth.

"No, he's alive. He's on his way to the hospital," Derek explained.

"Thank God!" Prentiss responded, breathing a sigh of relief.

Morgan led the way back to the SUV. With siren on and flashing light they sped to the hospital on the other side of town. Silently, they each in their own way prayed Hotch was going to be alright.

_TBC_

_A/N - If you like it, please let me know. Updates ASAP._


	4. Chapter 4

As Morgan and Prentiss sped through the narrow streets of Clarksburg, the ambulance pulled up outside the Emergency Room at the hospital. There was a flurry of activity as paramedics reported vitals to the medics meeting the incoming emergency. The gurney was rushed through into one of the trauma rooms. Hotch's clothes were cut off him as a thorough examination took place. It didn't take staff long to realise that the patient hadn't been hit by a car as initially suspected but had been stabbed.

"Type and cross match 3 units," the attending doctor ordered. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"Decreased breath sounds on the left side," an intern noted as the nurse attached the leads from the cardiac monitor to Hotch's chest.

"He's tachycardic. We'll need a chest tube in straight away," the attending doctor diagnosed. "Okay, let's intubate. There are signs of cyanosis. Let's work fast people or we're going to lose him," he continued.

"He's going into VF," the nurse noted as the alarm on the cardiac monitor began to alarm.

"Lignocaine in," the doctor announced as he administered the drug. The room paused to see if it had any effect.

"No change," the nurse replied, watching the monitor.

"Hand me the paddles," the attending ordered. "Charge to 200. Clear!" he shouted before applying the paddles to Hotch's chest. The voltage burst seemed to have done the trick as Hotch's cardiac rhythm regularised.

"Normal sinus rhythm," the nurse announced with a sigh of relief.

"Good, now where's that blood? We'll need it to stabilise him before transferring him to the O.R.," the doctor demanded, not wanting to risk any further drama.

As all this is happening, Morgan and Prentiss arrived at the E.R. Showing his I.D. badge, Morgan asked at reception where they could find Aaron Hotchner. The receptionist checked the admission list but could not find his name. As Derek became irate, Emily interjected and explained that they were looking for the man who had come in about a half hour previously, describing the circumstances. Eventually the receptionist was able to tell them where he was.

"You should take a seat and I'll get the doctor to come and talk to you," she suggested.

"No thanks, I'd like to see him now," Morgan insisted.

"I'm sorry Sir, but you cannot enter the trauma room. Please take a seat and I'll get someone as soon as I can," the receptionist replied with assertion, not one bit intimidated by him.

Morgan relented and sat down beside Emily in the waiting area. It wasn't long before the pair was approached by a middle aged doctor.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Kavanagh. I've been treating your friend," he said in introduction.

"How is he?" Emily asked standing up immediately.

"He's in a serious condition. His body is going into hypovolemic shock as a result of serious blood loss. We are doing our best to replenish the fluids lost and to stabilise him enough to get him up to surgery. Right now it would help if we could confirm his identity so that we can contact his family. Would you mind coming with me?" he asked kindly.

"Sure," Morgan responds. He and Prentiss follow the doctor through the trauma room doors. There were a number of medical personnel coming in and out. Almost immediately Emily's eyes were drawn to the deathly looking figure lying on a gurney surrounded by monitors and tubes. She found it hard to believe this frail figure was Aaron Hotchner. His face was bruised and still caked with dried blood. But beneath the swollen features she could see it was him. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. Morgan was just as stunned to see the usually strong and commanding senior agent reduced to the feeble figure clinging to life before him. Anger bubbled beneath his calm exterior. He turned to the doctor and confirmed to him that it was Aaron Hotchner they were treating.

"Thank you," the doctor replied. "Would you mind waiting outside and maybe filling out some of the admission forms at reception? And if you have any contact details for his next of kin that would be a great help."

"Sure, I can get that for you," Morgan nodded, realising the seriousness of Hotch's situation. He noticed that Emily hadn't taken her eyes off Hotch since entering the room. It was as if she were in a trance. He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her out. She was visibly shaken and upset, but was trying, and failing, to hide it.

Ever the gentleman, Morgan bought Emily some water at the vending machine and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I would be so upset. It's just seeing him that way...."

"I know. It kinda knocked the wind out of my sails and all," Derek admitted. "He's tough, you know. He's made it this far, he'll be okay," he says, trying to console her.

"I hope so," Emily replies, biting her lip.

"I'd better let Rossi and Hayley know what's going on," he says, standing up and walking to a quieter area to make the calls. Emily sat tensely gripping the cup of water, waiting for news.


	5. Chapter 5

Meanwhile in a police station in Detroit, Rossi and Reid were questioning the two suspects separately when J.J. received Morgan's call. She was horrified to hear what had happened and how ill Hotchner was. After talking to Morgan she decided to interrupt the interviews to update Rossi and Reid on the situation. Needless to say they were both as shocked and distressed by the news as she was.

Rossi's blood was boiling when he returned to the interview room, where he had previously been interviewing Travis Black. He stormed back into the room, slamming the door and before anyone had time to react, he took hold of Black by the scruff of the neck and flung him across the table where he had been seated.

"You sick son of a bitch! You left him to die on the side of the road," Rossi roared as he whacked Black's head off the table top.

Black grinned smugly, a devilish look in his eyes as the sheriff's deputy hauled Rossi off him.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" he snapped, shaking the deputy's hands off him.

"Heh! Heh! Died like the animal that he was," Black chuckled grimly as he stood up and dusted himself off. His comment made Rossi swing for him. He connected squarely with his jaw, sending Black sliding across the floor into the wall. This time the deputy didn't nother to intervene. Rossi walked over to where Black was on his back, rubbing his jaw and looked down at him.

"You might be interested to hear that Agent Hotchner isn't dead. He's alive and well and looking forward to being the chief witness in your trial. Now, why don't you go and chew on that for a while," Rossi growled glaring at the fallen man.

With that he turned and exited the room, leaving Black stunned and struggling back to his feet. Rossi walked into J.J. as he left the room. She had been watching from the viewing area and had seen all that went on. Rossi felt a little ashamed at not being able to control his anger and couldn't look her in the eye. With no words uttered, she just put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, hoping he would understand that he had her support.

Meanwhile Reid had been taking a more tactful approach in his interview with Margy Williams. Expertly he made her feel at ease before broaching the subject of the carjacking. Once he touched on the subject, she was more than willing to tell him the whole story. She told of the handsome stranger who had been kind enough to stop and help them. She explained how she knew Black was going to steal the car but swore that she had no clue that he planned to murder the driver.

She told of her shock when she saw Black attack the driver and of her terror. She expressed deep remorse at being unable to help the Hotchner but she too had feared for her life. She knew Black was a violent man but had never seen him become violent so quickly and brutally. She played along in order to stay alive. She told Reid how she was actually relieved when they were arrested. At least in a cell he couldn't get to her.

Reid then informed her that Hotchner hadn't died but was seriously ill in hospital. She cried tears of relief and gave thanks to the Lord for saving him. Reid could tell that her relief was genuine. He terminated the interview fully convinced that although Margy wasn't as pure as driven snow, that she was not a murderer and was herself a victim of Travis Black.

Back at the hospital, Morgan made the call to Hotch's next of kin. Hotch had never updated the information on his personnel file so Hayley was still listed. Morgan felt awkward at calling her, unsure at how she'd react.

"Hayley," he said as she answered her phone. "We've found Hotch."

"About time, where is he? What? Did he get you to call? Typical, get someone else to do his dirty work," she snaps irritably.

"No, Hayley. Hotch is in the hospital," he begins.

"What? Oh God, is he alright?" she interrupts, her demeanour changed immediately.

"I hope so. He's been taken into surgery. We're waiting to hear," he explained.

"Surgery? What happened him, Derek?" she asks, genuinely concerned.

" Long story short, he was carjacked and stabbed. I really don't know much more at the moment," Morgan told her.

"Which hospital? I'll try and get there. My Mom can stay with Jacky," she suggested.

"We're in Clarksburg. There's no need for you to come. Emily and I will stay with him. You need to be with Jacky. How is he by the way?" Morgan wondered.

"He had an allergic reaction to something. They don't really know the cause, but they're keeping him in overnight to monitor him," she explained.

"Poor little guy. Look, I'll call you as soon as I've any news," Morgan promised.

"Thanks, Derek. As soon as you hear anything, okay?" she replied, before hanging up.

As Morgan returned to the waiting area, he could see Emily sitting there looking very anxious. Her legs were fidgety and she was chewing her fingernails. Her eyes were puffy as if she had been crying. They were all close to Hotch but something told him that maybe she was closer than most. He sat down beside her and handed her a coffee. They both sipped their coffee from Styrofoam cups and waited. It turned out to be quite a long wait but eventually a surgeon approached them.

"Are you waiting for news of Aaron Hotchner?" he asked as he approached.

"Yes. Special Agents Morgan and Prentiss," Derek replied in introduction.

"The surgery went well, considering what he's been through. He gave us a scare or two in theatre but he's a tough one. I expect him to make a full recovery," he said confidently.

"That's great, Doc," Morgan replied, smiling over at Prentiss.

"Can we see him?" she asks.

"Sure. Follow me. He's in the recovery room at the moment. We'll keep him there for a few hours and all going well he'll be moved to a room in the I.C.U. We'll monitor him closely for the next 48 hours," the doctor explained as they walked to the recovery room. "He'll probably won't wake for a while yet and when he does he won't be able to talk with the tube in his throat. Once we're sure that he's breathing well enough on his own, we'll remove that," he continues as they enter the room.

Hotch is lying there, still and peaceful looking, surrounded by tubes and monitors. Obvious signs of his ordeal are apparent on his face and arms.

"Sit with him. Talk to him," the doctor suggested. "He'll be gald to see a friendly face when h wakes."

"Thank you, Doctor," Emily replied, taking his advice and pulling a chair up close to the bed. She took told of his hand and tenderly caressed it. Morgan wasn't sure what he was seeing. He had never seen Prentiss ever touch Hotch let alone in such a loving manner. He couldn't understand how he had missed it all this time.

Emily began talking to Hotch.

"Hotch, It's me, Emily. You really had me worried there, you know. But the doctor says that you're going to be fine. You'll have to take it easy for a while though. Looks like you'll have to take a proper vacation," she joked, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Morgan's here too, and the rest of the team are asking after you. They're in Detroit. They got the guy who did this to you. So you just concentrate on getting well," she continued helpless to stop the tears that she had been holding back for hours.

As she took Hotch's hand and raised it to her lips and kisses the back of it, she confirmed any suspicions that Morgan had. While he unconsciously raises his eyebrows, he said nothing. It certainly wasn't the time or place. He did get the impression that his presence was not needed so he excused himself and left the pair alone.

_**A/N - sorry for the short update. Hopefully I'll get to put up the last couple of chapter soon.**_


	6. Chapter 6

Emily seemed to hardly notice that Morgan had left. She just held on to Hotch's hand, almost afraid to let go. She tenderly stroked his bruised face. She drew a small comfort from the rhythmic sound of the respirator. Hours passed quickly but she was resolved in her vigil. Morgan popped in and out to check on things and to bring her an occasional coffee or a danish. It was almost morning when she noticed the first flutter of Hotch's eyelids. She was drowsy in the chair but sat upright straight away. She watched as he battled his way back to consciousness.

"Hotch? Hotch, it's okay. You're in the hospital," she said, trying to reassure him.

The struggle back to consciousness was hard fought. His eyelids felt like they had weights attached. As light eventually broke through, it hurt his eyes. He blinked several times, trying to clear the fog that appeared around everything. He could hear a voice. It was familiar to him but he couldn't quite place it. As he grew more alert, the tube in his throat became more noticeable. Instinct caused him to fight the foreign body in his throat that was helping him breathe. Emily was quick to notice the panic in his dark eyes as he gagged and struggled with the tube. He was becoming very distressed. She pressed the call button to summon assistance. Within seconds, the room filled with medical personnel.

The doctor calmly explained to Hotch that the tube was helping him to breathe but that he could remove it if Hotch wanted. By blinking, Hotch indicated that he wanted it taken out. Expertly, the doctor removed the tube. Immediately Hotch began to cough, his throat obviously irritated by the tube. The nurse quickly positioned an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth and instructed him to try and breath normally. After a couple of minutes Hotch was breathing without difficulty and taking sips of water from a straw. By this time the nurse had raised the back of his bed so he was in a sitting position. Holding the mask with one hand, he squeezed Emily's hand with the other. She hadn't left his side throughout. She smiled back at him awkwardly. Theirs was an unspoken love. Neither had acted on their feelings, neither had openly admitted their feelings. He was so glad that he had woken up to her face today though. She had no idea how long he had yearned to one day wake up beside her. This wasn't quite how he had imagined, but he'd settle for it…for now!

After fitting Hotch with a nasal cannula, the nursing staff finally left the room. They were alone at last.

"You look tired," Hotch croaked, his voice not fully recovered.

"Gee, thanks!" Emily replied sarcastically. "It's all your fault you know."

"Sorry," he apologised meekly.

"You could have died out there, Hotch," Emily pointed out emotionally.

"I know. I'm sorry," he replied.

"Stop apologising. It wasn't your fault. It's just, if I lost you I don't know how I'd….." she said, unable to finish the sentence without he voice breaking.

"Come here," Hotch whispered extending his hand towards her. Emily moved closer and leaned in towards him. He raised hinself slightly to get closer to her and softly kissed her on the cheek. She pulled back momentarily but as she did her gaze met his and she could see his desire. She moved closer again and this time she kissed him longingly on the lips, releasing her pent up desire. He responded with passion. When they ceased Hotch smileed weakly at her.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?" he asked.

"You have? A hint would've been nice," Emily replied, laughing like a schoolgirl.

"I couldn't, you know that," he explained drowsily. Emily noticed immediately how tired he was.

"You get some sleep. I think we should talk when you're feeling better though," she said, touching his face softly. Hotch didn't argue. He just rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to fall into a deep sleep.

Emily sat and watched him sleep. She considered what had just happened and wondered if it would ever happen again. Was it a moment of weakness for both of them or was it a moment of clarity. She was fully aware of what she had done but was he, she wondered. Would Hotch even remember when he woke? She was more confused now than ever. She was lost in her thoughts when Morgan returned.

"Hey, the nurse said that he woke," he announced eagerly when he entered.

"Yeah, he did. But he's sleeping again. He's really weak," Emily pointed out.

"How was he? Did he say anything?" Derek wondered.

"He was a little confused, but that's to be expected," she told him, wondering to herself if he suspected what happened.

"Look, why don't you take a break and get some rest. I've checked us into a motel a few blocks away. The Mountain View Motel. Room 17B. I'll stay with him," he offered kindly.

"Are you sure?" she asked, feeling guilty for wanting to sleep but it had been one long, harrowing night.

"Go on, before I change my mind," Morgan replied in jest.

"Okay, just for a couple of hours. Thanks," she said, taking the key from him and gathering up her things. She looked over at Hotch once more, desperately wanting to kiss him goodbye. It was difficult for her but she restrained herself. She couldn't make their feelings public until she was sure it was what Hotch wanted.

Morgan settled back into the armchair and opened up the sports pages of the local newspaper. AS the hours passed he put the paper down and wandered to the window. He looked out and couldn't help but admire the breathtaking view. Tree lined mountain tops peered over the row of buildings across the street. The sun was slowly creeping up from behind them, drenching the town in a hazy sunshine. As a city boy, he often failed to take the time to appreciate nature's fine work. He turned back and looked over at the still sleeping Hotchner. There and then he gave thanks to the Lord that he still had his friend. He gave thanks for the forestry worker who found him, the paramedics who kept him alive and the surgeons whose skill ultimately saved his life. It had been a while since he had prayed, but today he felt it was necessary.

He was about to take a snack break and get a soda when Hotch began to wake.

"Morgan?"

"Hey man, have you been awake long?"

"No. Just woke. Where's Emily?" he asked drowsily.

"She's gone to the motel to get some rest. She'll be back later," Morgan explained.

"I need to talk to her. It's important," Hotch replied.

"She'll be back soon," Derek told him, wondering what was so important. "So, how are you feeling?"

"I've felt better," Hotch answered stress apparent in his voice.

"Well, getting stabbed will do that to you," Morgan joked. "Do you know how lucky you are to be alive?"

"I'm beginning to get the picture," he replied.

"Yep, well it's thanks to Hayley for getting us to look for you. If it wasn't for her we wouldn't have missed you for another couple of days," Morgan informed him seriously.

"Hayley?" Hotch asked, shifting slightly in the bad.

"Yeah. Little Jack was ill and asking for his Dad. She couldn't reach you so she got in touch with us. Garcia did her magic and here we are," Derek explained briefly.

"What's wrong with Jack?" a worried Hotch asked.

"Hayley had to take him to the ER. He had a high fever and she couldn't bring it down. He's fine now. They're giving him antibiotics for a kidney infection. Hayley wanted to come when she knew you were hurt but I told her to stay with Jack. She'll probably want to talk to you when you're up to it," Morgan explained.

"I'll call her. Can I borrow your phone?" Hotch asked.

"Sure, but there's no rush. Wait until you're feeling better," Derek suggested.

"I'd rather be sure Jack's okay," Hotch said, taking the phone and dialling the number. Morgan got the message and excused himself from the room and left Hotchner to talk to his ex wife in private.

He was waiting outside the room when Prentiss arrived back from the motel.

"That was quick. Did you get any sleep?" Morgan asked.

"A couple of hours. I'll be fine for another while. What are you doing out here?" she wondered.

"He's on the phone to Hayley. I didn't really want to be in on that call," he laughed. Emily didn't laugh, she didn't even smile. She just looked towards the door and longed to hear what Hotch was saying to Hayley. She almost felt ill thinking that he might be talking about reconciliation. Near death experiences tend to affect different people different ways. Maybe he realised that she was the one and that life was too short to allow a little thing like work tear his family apart. All these thoughts raced through her mind. Morgan studied her face and noticed the change in her demeamour. He knew something was up but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Are you alright?" he asked eventually.

"What? Oh yeah, fine," she stammered.

"It's just that you seemed to zone out there for a while," he commented.

"I did? Sorry, still tired I guess," she said, making up an excuse.

Morgan decided not to pry any further. She obviously didn't want to talk about it, so there was no point pushing it. After a few minutes, Morgan put his head around the door of Hotch's room to see if he'd finished the call. He had and signalled for him to come back in.

"Everything alright?" Morgan asked as he entered the room.

"Yea, he's going to be fine," Hotch replied. Then he noticed Emily had returned also. He smiled over at her.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked awkwardly.

"I do now that you're here," Hotch answered. Morgan was taken aback by the comment. It was very out of character for Hotch to be so flirtatious with a female colleague. Emily blushed but said nothing.

"Aren't you going to come any closer?" Hotch asked a bewildered Prentiss. Morgan was staggered by this request. He was beginning to suspect a head injury. He noticed that Emily however, wasn't in the least bit uncomfortable with the request and was in fact moving over to stand close to Hotch. As she did, Hotch took her by the hand and guided her to an intimate proximity. Derek didn't really know what to say. He was speechless.

He had to consciously close his gaping mouth as he watched Emily lean over and kiss Hotch provocatively on the lips. Oh boy, he thought, this is really going to rock the boat.

As he was about to turn and leave the two love birds, Hotch called him back.

"Sorry, Morgan. I didn't mean to embarrass you," Hotch apologised.

"You didn't embarrass me. Surprised me, yes. Embarrassed, no!"

"So, I guess you're the first to know," Hotch said as a matter of fact.

"I guess so. Look, I hope it works for you guys. I really do. Now if you don't mind, I can't take much more of this mush so I'll leave you to it," Morgan quipped as he winked at Emily and made a swift exit.

As he left, Hotch and Emily settled in to a long discussion on their future. It wasn't going to be easy by any means, but Hotch wasn't prepared to let work be the obstacle to his happiness anymore.

THE END

_Sorry about the ending guys. Didn't really know where to go with this in the end. It ended up way too gooey for my liking. I don't really like writing the soppy stuff!!!_


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